


His sweet kiss

by experimentative_writer



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of Hurt, Angry Jaskier, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Hurt Jaskier, Inspired by Music, M/M, Masturbation, Mention of drinking, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post 01x06, Sad Jaskier, Smut, Swearing, hurt geralt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22217683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/experimentative_writer/pseuds/experimentative_writer
Summary: "At first, Geralt had tried to get over everything like nothing happened. He went back to killing monsters, drinking and sleeping with whores. He thought it would fill the immense void his dispute with Jaskier had left inside him.It didn’t.To his own surprise, he missed the annoying bard. Dearly. "OrGeralt feels guilty about what he said to Jaskier on the mountains and find him to make things right.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 19
Kudos: 672





	His sweet kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Tried something a bit different than my usual style (this means no angry sex haha), but pretty confident with how it turned out :)
> 
> Prepare for a lot of hurt! (sorrynotsorry)

“Have you heard? The bard singing that song about the White Wolf will be in Toussaint tonight!”

As soon as Geralt’s ears picked up on the lady’s words, originally directed to her friend, he dropped everything he was holding in his hands and ran to Roach, mounting her and leaving in hope to arrive in time to catch the bard. 

Almost two months had passed since the events on the mountains. 

At first, Geralt had tried to get over everything like nothing happened. He went back to killing monsters, drinking and sleeping with whores. He thought it would fill the immense void his dispute with Jaskier had left inside him. 

It didn’t. 

To his own surprise, he missed the annoying bard. Dearly. 

He missed his non stop rambling. He missed his disturbing cheerfulness. For fuck’s sake, he even missed his singing. 

What Geralt realised after a while is that he didn’t  _ only  _ miss the bard’s character traits.

He missed the way Jaskier smiled when he would roll his eyes at a particularly bad joke. He missed his hands, delicately treading through his hair to wash any dirt stuck in them. Or the way his hands would clean a wound Geralt suffered during a fight, even though the witcher  _ insisted  _ he was able to do it alone. He missed his blue eyes, looking up at him like he was the whole world (because Geralt  _ was  _ Jaskier’s whole world). He missed the way his smaller body would  _ just so perfectly _ fit against his own while they slept, huddled for Jaskier’s warmth, in the wilderness. 

Geralt was in love with the bard, even though he tried as hard as he could to never fall in love with anyone, like a good witcher should. 

When he realised this, Geralt started sleeping with women even more, trying to forget about Jaskier.

But he couldn’t. 

And he didn’t want to. 

He wanted to be with him. By his side. Not with any other person in this world or another.

He had left a particularly fine lady, half naked in his bed, in order to find his bard. The girl had smiled at him as he dressed himself and shouted, as he crossed the door: “Go get him!” 

A small smile on his lips, he was more than ready to find Jaskier and keep him, for as long as the other man would let him do so. 

For the last month and a half, he didn’t not really _ track down _ Jaskier, but, yeah, he kinda did. 

It was the first time he had heard about the male’s whereabouts since then, so he was more than happy when he arrived in Toussaint and saw that the pub was still alive, music coming to Geralt’s ears.  _ His  _ music. 

When he entered the small pub, he was not totally surprised to see that it was full of people, all surrounded around the small stage on which Jaskier probably was; he couldn’t tell from where he was standing, so Geralt made his way slowly to the bard. All around, people were applauding the performance and tossing coins to the musicians as they asked for one last song. 

A bunch of brown locks appeared above everybody else’s head, soon followed by deep blue eyes and that charming smile. 

“All right, everyone, thanks for all the love tonight, but this bard needs to rest--”

The brunet didn’t finish his sentence as his eyes fell on Geralt, his breath catching tightly in his throat. He froze his current motion, picking up coins, as he analysed the witcher’s face as everyone kept encouraging him. 

In his eyes, Geralt saw a multitude of different emotions; first shock, followed by joy, but quickly drowned by sorrow, hurt and anger. Oh, the anger in those beautiful blue orbs. 

Geralt was as frozen as Jaskier: he didn’t dare to move, in case the other man got scared and ran away. 

How he had missed the man. A sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding in left Geralt’s lungs, his shoulders dropping lightly as it did. 

Geralt frowned as he saw the man’s jaw clench before the bard spoke to the crowd. 

“Well, seems like I’ll make a special for tonight and I’ll be playing  _ one  _ last song for you. But then, I’ll be on my way.”

With the way he stared at Geralt, the witcher was surprised nobody noticed his presence as they cheered for the man on the stage. 

Jaskier sat on a small stool on the stage, taking a deep uneven breath as his fingers stroke the first notes on his lute. His eyes immediately went to find Geralt’s again, and the white haired man felt like he was the only one in the crowd and that the song was for him, and only him. 

“ _ The fairer sex, they often call it _

_ But her love’s as unfair as a crook _

_ It steals all my reason _

_ Commits every treason _

_ Of logic, with naught but a look _

_ A storm breaking on the horizon _

_ Of longing and heartache and lust _

_ She’s always bad news _

_ It’s always lose, lose _

_ So tell me love, tell me love _

_ How is that just? _

_ But the story is this _

_ She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss _

_ Her sweet kiss _

_ But the story is this _

_ She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss” _

Jaskier’s deep voice made something tremble inside Geralt. He knew the meaning of this song and understood how deep he had hurt Jaskier, far more than he thought initially. 

_ “Her current is pulling you closer _

_ And charging the hot, humid night _

_ The red sky at dawn is giving a warning, you fool _

_ Better stay out of sight _

_ I’m weak my love, and I am wanting _

_ If this is the path I must trudge _

_ I welcome my sentence _

_ Give to you my penance _

_ Garrotter, jury and judge _

_ But the story is this _

_ She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss _

_ Her sweet kiss,  _

_ But the story is this _

_ She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss _

_ But the story is this _

_ She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss _

_ Her sweet kiss _

_ But the story is this _

_ She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss _

_ The story is this _

_ She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss” _

The bard ended his song at the same time his voice broke into a quiet sob, the loud cheer of the crowd covering it (but not enough for Geralt to not hear it). 

His blues eyes, which didn’t leave Geralt for one second during the whole performance, left his amber ones as the dropped on the floor, the man bending one last time to pick up his lute case and leave abruptly. 

“Jaskier!” 

Geralt shouted, in hope to get the man’s attention, but his voice was buried under a mass of other voices, all cheering for the bard. Geralt tried to follow the brunet and to keep his eyes on him as he exited the pub from a back door, but the crowd’s movement prevented him to do so and he rapidly lost track of the man. 

“Fuck!”

Geralt forced his way through the people and finally arrived at the back entrance, but the bard seemed long gone already. He focused all his attention on the sounds coming from the town and heard hurried footsteps amongst them. 

Geralt followed the footsteps until he was in front of an inn, in which they seemed to stop.  _ ‘Must have rented a room already’ _ , he thought to himself as he entered the inn, not bothering to give a look at the surprised lords sitting at the inn’s bar. 

The witcher followed the bard distinctive scent, a perfume he liked to wear on occasions, until he reached a room. Listening closely, Geralt heard harsh breaths and a fast heartbeat. When he heard things getting tossed around in the room, panic almost submerged him, so Geralt knocked down the door with his shoulder, ready to attack anybody wanting harm to his bard. 

Inside, he only found Jaskier, seemingly packing his things in a hurry. Whatever Geralt thought the man would say to him when he saw him barge into his room for no actual reasons, it got tossed away as the other shot him the angriest glare the witcher had ever seen on this man.

“What the  _ fuck  _ do you think you’re doing here?” Jaskier all but shouted, making the witcher almost jump at his harsh tone.

“Well, uh…” Geralt stuttered, closing the door behind him as best as he could. 

“No!” Jaskier interrupted him, pointing a finger in his direction in a way to silence him. “You  _ don’t get  _ to come see me perform. You  _ don’t get  _ to follow me here.” Tears filled his eyes with every words he spat. “You  _ don’t get  _ to come into my room like this. And you certainly  _ don’t get  _ to come back into my life after everything you said!” 

His voice broke into a big sob as he finished speaking, tears finally flowing down his eyes as he couldn’t hold them anymore, like all the emotions he felt towards the witcher overflowed. Jaskier sat on a small nightstand, both hands coming up to cover his face as his body shook from the force of his cries. 

Geralt had never felt so shaken in his long life; watching the man he loved break down completely before his eyes  _ because  _ of him was the most painful thing he ever experienced. 

Slowly, as Jaskier continued to sob, Geralt made his way to him, only stopping when he was at arm’s distance from him. He calmly rose both of his hands and rested them on the brunet’s shoulders, before slipping them on his biceps, holding him tightly.

The sudden touch made Jaskier jump and try to pull back harshly, but Geralt kept holding him in place.

“NO! DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” Jaskier now screamed, tears dripping more than ever from his blue eyes. He hit Geralt’s chest over and over again with his fists as he continued screaming the same words, but Geralt didn’t bulge. 

He could have stopped the man from punching him more than easily. But he didn’t. 

He knew he deserved it all. 

Instead, he wrapped his arms slowly tighter and tighter around Jaskier’s frame until he was circling his waist, the brunet’s chest now against his. Jaskier continued hitting him and screaming at him for a while, before he started growing tired, his screams fading in whispers against Geralt’s chest as his fist clenched around his shirt, his face hidden against his chest. 

“S-stop it… I hate you… Y-you’re an asshole…”

“I know… I know…” Geralt whispered back, his head resting over brown locks damped in sweat, while he slowly caressed the other’s back. “Come here.” 

Jaskier tried to resist as Geralt pulled him on the bed, but he was too weak to properly do so. Instead, he let the man he loved tug him over the covers, both of them laying face to face on their sides, Geralt’s strong arms holding them close. 

Jaskier was still sobbing lightly with his fists clenched on Geralt’s shirt as the man caressed his back with one hand and his hair with the other when he heard Geralt speak faintly.

“I’m sorry.” 

The bard looked up at him, more tears filling his eyes as he began to assault the witcher’s chest with his fists again, but with less force than earlier, exhausted.

“You don’t get to say that! You can’t say that! I hate you!” he repeated, making the witcher’s throat to tighten.

“I know… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” 

They both kept repeating the same words until Jaskier’s began to weaken, his body now shivering with low sobs. Geralt gently rested his forehead against Jaskier’s, cupping the man’s cheeks with both hands. 

“I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.” 

At his words, Jaskier pulled back far enough so he was able to look into the witcher’s amber eyes, a few tears remaining in his blue ones. 

“W-what did you say?” he said between uneven breaths. 

Geralt held the other’s stare as he repeated the words he knew the bard wanted him to say once more.

“I love you.” 

Lightly pushing Geralt on the chest, Jaskier frowned as another sob escaped him. 

“N-no. You don’t get to say that. You don’t. You can’t.”

“But I do. I love you. Sorry it took me all this time to realise it.”

“No, you don’t.” 

“Yes, I do. I love you.” 

“Don’t say that.”

“I love you.” 

“Stop.” 

“No. I love you.” he kept repeating these three words as he started kissing the bard’s face, in hope to silence him. First, he kissed his forehead. Then, the bridge of his nose and the tip. He kissed one cheek, then the other. He kissed his chin and then let his gaze wander in the blue eyes closely following his every motions. 

With his thumbs, Geralt wiped the remains of the tears that had fallen from Jaskier’s eyes, the man now silent as they stared at each other, all animosity previously present having left the air.

“I love you.” whispered Geralt, caressing Jaskier’s cheeks with his thumbs.

The brunet reached both of his hands to hold the witcher’s own, not stopping his movements but slowly relaxing in it. 

“I love you too.” 

Geralt’s heart seemed to want to jump out of his chest at the other’s words, all fear of having lost him forever now gone from his mind. 

Slowly, giving Jaskier the time to pull back at any moment, Geralt leaned towards the bard, his eyes never leaving his. Jaskier seemed to be holding his breath until their lips met, when he all but melted under the soft embrace of the other’s lips on his. They both closed their eyes as they appreciated the moment they had been longing for a while. 

The kiss started relatively soft, their lips getting to know each other as they slowly made-out. Jaskier’s hands left Geralt’s as they wandered in his white locks, delicately caressing his scalp like he knew he liked it best. Geralt sighed at the known gesture, only now realising how intimate it was. How intimate it had always been. 

Gently, Geralt pushed Jaskier so he was now laying on his back, Geralt towering him partially as they continued kissing. One of Jaskier’s leg came to wrap around his owns, his foot caressing the back of his thighs, bringing Geralt slightly more over him as he did so. 

The witcher grunted softly, deepening the kiss as he angled his head to lick Jaskier’s lip, the other greedily accepting his offer by opening his mouth and let their tongues caress each others. He rolled completely over the other, kneeling over one of his leg as the other continued caressing the back of his thighs. 

The kiss started heating up with their new position, even more so when Jaskier purposely rolled his hips against Geralt’s, making him feel his already hard member on his thigh. 

“Fuck, Jaskier…” 

Geralt let go of the other’s lips to now attack his neck, tugging a bit forcefully on his shirt’s neckline to suck down his throat. Jaskier however didn’t complain as he rolled his hips once more. 

Geralt continued his ministrations on Jaskier’s neck while tugging the bard’s shirt out of his trousers, slipping a hand under the fabric to feel the soft skin under his calloused hands. Jaskier rolled his back at the feeling, more than happy to receive more attention from his witcher. 

Jaskier mimicked Geralt’s action, slipping a hand under his shirt to feel his broad chest and his toned stomach. Feeling the fabric of his shirt in the way, Geralt pulled away from his bard’s tempting body to take his shirt off and throw it somewhere in the room, slightly flexing his muscles as he did so. Jaskier bit his bottom lip as he looked at him, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“Show-off.” 

Bending once more to capture the bard’s lips, it was Geralt’s turn to laugh lightly. 

“Only because you like it.” 

Geralt leaned lower, raising Jaskier’s shirt to kiss his stomach and ribs.

“That, I do.” 

“Hmm.” 

Before long, Geralt pulled away once more from Jaskier, this time, tugging on the bard’s shirt. 

“Off.” 

Sitting, Jaskier, with the help of Geralt, took his shirt off.

“Still a man of many words, as I see.” he joked, winking at the witcher before the latest pushed him back on the bed, his lips going back to suck marks on his body.

“You speak too much. Don’t worry, though; when we’re done, I’ll make sure you only remember how to say my name.” 

“Oh.  _ Oh _ . Geralt.” Jaskier moaned, making the other smirk against his skin.

“Exactly.” 

Leaning down Jaskier’s body once more, Geralt was now facing the other’s erection, still fully clothed. He looked up to see Jaskier watching him carefully and already panting from arousal. Still smirking, he palmed the brunet through his trousers, making the man moan and roll his back at the feeling. 

Not wanting to draw this any longer, needing to feel the other melt under his touch, Geralt undid Jaskier’s pants and lowered them enough so he could free his erection, the younger’s member now standing proud before his eyes. 

Slowly, and still holding eye contact, Geralt licked a strip from the base to the top of Jaskier’s prick, relishing in the man’s reaction; Jaskier’s blue eyes disappeared behind his eyelids and his back rolled once more as he moaned loudly. ‘ _ Good,’ _ Geralt thought, ‘ _ let everyone here know who you belong to’ _ .

Without further more teasing, Geralt took Jaskier in his mouth, the bard’s eyes darting open to watch the other.

“F-fuck, Geralt…”

Once he was deepthroating the younger man, he pulled back slightly to set a slow pace, wanting to draw these sweet sounds coming from Jaskier over and over again. Geralt closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the velvety skin and the pulse of hard veins under his tongue. Jaskier’s hands were tangled in Geralt’s hair, tugging on them and making the other grunt. 

After a (too) short moment, Jaskier’s hands pulled Geralt’s mouth off his length, bringing the man to his lips. Both of them made out hungrily, Jaskier’s hands snaking into Geralt’s trouser to masturbate the witcher slowly, teasingly. Groaning, Geralt rested his forehead on Jaskier’s shoulder as he thrusted leisurely in the bard’s hand, his own hands continuing their ministrations on the other’s prick. 

Geralt bated Jaskier’s hand away from his erection when he aligned both of their lengths, wrapping his large hand around both of their arousal. The first stroke made a shiver run down Jaskier’s body, the bard’s hands mapping the witcher’s body as he pleasured them. The bard’s reaction was almost as pleasurable as the experience, so Geralt picked up the pace, his hand caressing their cocks faster and faster.

“Geralt… G-Geralt…” 

Jaskier was only able to moan Geralt’s name like a prayer between groans and grunts, accentuating the witcher’s pleasure immensely. Their lips caressed each other, Jaskier sometime biting playfully on Geralt’s lip. 

Before long, both men felt a known heat beginning to pool inside the bottom of their stomach. 

“G-Geralt… I’m…” 

“I know… Me too.” 

A few other flicks of his wrists and Geralt sent them over the edge, Jaskier cuming seconds before him. Their members pulsed against the other, sending waves of pleasure through the both of them. They spilled over Jaskier’s stomach, leaving the man in a mess.

When they (more like Jaskier) catched their breath, foreheads resting against the other’s, they looked into each other’s eyes and kissed, once again, but this time, more leisurely, more passionately. Jaskier’s hands were tangled in Geralt’s hair, caressing his scalp and gently tugging on white locks. 

Before their cums had the chance to dry on Jaskier’s stomach (Geralt knew how  _ disgusted  _ the man would be), Geralt reluctantly stood up to retrieve a shirt to wipe his stomach. Jaskier only contented himself by laying still, a small smile on his lips, as the man cleaned him. 

Once he was done, Geralt laid beside Jaskier, enveloping the smaller man in his arms as he cuddled him, his front pressed to the other’s back. Satisfied, the both of them started to drift back into sleep, Geralt’s nose buried in Jaskier’s neck. 

Suddenly, Geralt felt the bard tensing up against him, a slight panic emanating from Jaskier. He waited for the brunet to speak, but when he didn’t, Geralt understood the other’s fear.

“Sleep. I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore.” 

Jaskier smiled warmly, all his fears leaving him as he pressed himself tighter against Geralt. 

His sweet kiss would probably destroy him again, but Jaskier knew he always would be Geralt’s one and only. 

  
  
  


FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! :)
> 
> 1) English is not my first language, so excuse any mistakes.  
> 2) Toussaint is a town in the games, though I don't remember it being mentioned in the Netflix show?  
> 3) The song Jaskier sang is one of his own (actually playing in episode 6), "Her sweet kiss". Go check it out if you don't remember it, it is soooo good <3  
> 4) I think of maybe doing a part 2, thoughts?


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